Playing the Game

by Stephanie Queen

  The question took a second to register as she watched Lindy. “As well as I can be. It’ll be a long haul from here though.” She smiled. He chuckled.

  “Give me the official stats,” Roxanne said.

  “She had a minimal loss of blood and fluids. We’re pumping her now. Temp’s good, blood pressure is low but stable, good strong pulse. The light’s ahead there somewhere if you look hard enough down the tunnel.”

  “That’s what I came to hear. And to say good-bye. I wasn’t sure if I’d find her awake so I wanted to leave this with you.” Roxanne handed him a package. It was the Christmas present she’d never had a chance to give the child. It was a gold locket containing miniature pictures of Barry and Cynthia, Lindy’s mother. It hadn’t been easy finding the photos, but she’d managed it.

  “If you want you can give it to Barry for her. He’ll probably be back soon,” Tim said.

  She felt a jolt of fear and anxiety shoot through her gut. “I can’t. I don’t want to see Barry. It’s a mutual agreement.”

  “Okay. Whatever you say.”

  Laura spoke. “Let’s go down to the coffee shop and talk. It should be empty. There’s some other business you should know about, Rox,” Laura said.

  “Only for a minute. I shouldn’t be hanging around here. I might ruin your reputations.” She turned and led the way out of the room. She stopped and held the door. Tim and Laura walked out. Roxanne turned back toward Lindy and whispered good-bye. She leaned over the girl and gave her a hug. Her eyes fluttered open. A smile lit her face and the girl hugged her back.

  Down at the coffee shop, Roxanne blotted the remnants of her tears. She found Laura already gulping coffee. Tim sat calmly eating a donut. Roxanne took a chair. Laura pushed aside her cup and spoke

  “That detective, Turner, from Marblehead, apparently had a talk with Dr. Evans the other day. Harry found out. Dr. Evans somehow gave Turner the impression that you might be mismanaging funds. Harry told him he was barking up the wrong tree.”

  “Barking up the wrong tree?” Roxanne listened to Laura and felt like another shoe was about to drop.

  “Anyway, Harry says Turner didn’t seem convinced. So we’re looking into it. We think it’s Evans who’s been mismanaging funds—remember the money he took from Tim’s research fund to use for the building project?”

  “You’re looking into it?”

  “Yes. Harry, Tim, and me. We’re going to do a little investigation work of our own. In the meantime, Harry’s holding all the checks that come into the office in his office safe. As we speak we’re putting together all the information we have on the fund.”

  Roxanne was about to tell Laura how impressed she was when she saw Al walk in the coffee shop door. He stopped dead when he saw her. He turned a shade paler. Roxanne felt her pulse shoot into panic mode. She knew she wasn’t supposed to be here.

  “Someone arrange a party I didn’t know about?”

  Roxanne flicked an uncomfortable glance at Laura. She could see the disapproval taking the place of surprise on Al’s face. No one answered him. He stepped closer to their table.

  “What are you doing here, Roxanne?” He kept his voice low.

  “You know why I’m here.”

  “Yes. Not very smart.”

  “What are you doing here?” She had a feeling about his answer.

  “I’m meeting Barry about his custody hearing. He has to sign some papers.” Al took a long hard look at her, then stepped back. “I’ll wait outside for him.” He walked out.

  Roxanne looked at her two friends and addressed their questioning looks. “I need to get out of here. Al’s concerned about my affect on Barry’s custody of Lindy. He wants me to pretend I never met either of them …”

  “Oh no.” Laura cut Roxanne off and covered her eyes. Roxanne turned to see Paul Paris walk through the other door to the coffee shop.

  “Laura, you sent invitations, didn’t you? And this was supposed to be a top secret visit.” Roxanne tried for lightness, but her anxiety ratcheted up when Paul came over to their table. She wasn’t surprised until he pulled up a chair.

  “I’m glad I found you here, Dr. Oki. I was looking for you earlier. I wanted to talk to you about how Lindy was doing.” He turned to Roxanne without waiting for the doctor’s response. “I must say I’m surprised to see you here after reading this morning’s headlines. But I suppose keeping a low profile isn’t exactly your strong suit, is it?” He kept his eyes on her.

  Roxanne was past feeling flustered. Instead she found herself appreciating the irony of the occasion. She felt defiance well up. Laura flashed her an anxious warning glare, which she ignored.

  “Yes, you’re right of course. Anything for the photo-op. I’m a publicity hound. I thought I’d hang out here at the hospital and see if I could attract some media attention this morning. It’s been so boring since I was fired from my job and banned from my volunteer work …” She would have gone on if it weren’t for Dr. Oki.

  “You’ll be glad to know, Paul, that Lindy is doing well. Laura and Roxanne were both here to ascertain the same thing this morning. She’ll be asleep for a while though and require a lot of rest for the next week or so.” Dr. Oki rose and looked at Roxanne and Laura as if to say this was a good time to leave.

  Roxanne was framing a parting remark for Paul, who also stood, when Barry stormed into the coffee shop toward them. Al was close on his heels.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” Barry wasted no time in confronting her.

  “You should know better than anyone.” Paul snickered at Barry.

  Barry turned and looked at Paul as if he’d just noticed him. “You keep out of it, Paris. This is none of your God damned business.”

  Roxanne felt glad his anger was aimed at someone besides her. She should have moved to leave, but she felt frozen.

  “Barry, let’s go upstairs…” Al put his hand on Barry’s arm, but Barry shrugged it off.

  “That’s all right, Al. I was just leaving,” Roxanne said as she saw several media people, including the two that were camped at her house, through the window. They approached the coffee shop. She turned to Laura who noticed them too.

  Laura looked as though she was about to be pushed into the deep end of the pool. Dr. Oki’s ever-calm façade bore a slight frown, though he didn’t move. Al’s face had alarm written all over it, from his sweat-beaded forehead to the compressed lips. Roxanne wasn’t even going to guess at what made him most angry. She turned to Paul Paris. His fists were clenched and he looked like he wanted to finish his fight with Barry right here and now.

  She forced herself to turn toward Barry’s face, at the same time as the reporters came through the coffee shop door. Barry’s eyes were on her, flashing with emotion like she’d never seen.

  Dr. Oki grabbed Paul’s arm, mumbling something about a consultation up in his office and started to lead him around some tables toward the door. Laura grabbed Roxanne.

  “Let’s go,” she said.

  “Wait a minute,” Barry said to her, the anger gone from his voice. Roxanne’s eyes snapped around to meet his for a split second. But she would never know what he was going to say.

  “Mr. Dennis…” The reporter was on him with a microphone shoved as close to Barry’s mouth as he could get it. Cameras flashed. TV cameras aimed. More reporters followed.

  “Mr. Dennis, what was your reason for posting bail for Roxanne Monet, an accused murderer?” The question was loud.

  Everyone froze. Except the reporters. Roxanne’s heart stopped.

  Paul tugged himself away from Dr. Oki and wheeled around to the cameras. “Why do you think? He probably helped her ice her husband.”

  No one had a chance to stop Barry. The left-handed blow to Paul Paris’s face flew swiftly and landed cleanly. Paul hit the floor before anyone reacted.

  But then, all hell broke loose and Roxanne felt as if she were in the eye of a hurricane. Dr. Oki took control of Paul, enlisting the aid of a nurse in the vicinity
. Al grabbed Barry and this time put a grip on him that would not be undone—or Barry allowed himself to be dragged back out the door and through the crowd that had gathered. The media mob pounced on her.

  “Is this true, Ms. Monet? Is there any truth to Paul Paris’s accusations?”

  “What were you doing here at the hospital this morning?”

  “How long have you been involved with Barry Dennis?”

  “Why did you kill your husband?”

  That question made her move. With Laura’s help, she pushed her way through the mob and flashing cameras to the door. She hardly saw their faces and didn’t let any more of the questions register in her mind. She only met the eyes of one reporter on her way out. Pat Banyan. He shoved a microphone toward her and opened his mouth to ask a question.

  “Don’t even think about it,” she said too quietly for anyone to hear but him. For that moment she focused all her anger at him in the pinpoint of her stare. He didn’t speak. She turned away and escaped through the door with Laura.

  They drove home in almost silence. Roxanne slouched in the passenger seat staring out the window, trying to keep her mind as blank and unfocused as possible. Laura shook her head and muttered under her breath, alternating with deep breathing and blowing out puffs of air as if she were in her second stage of labor.

  It could have gone either way. Roxanne could have broken down into despairing sobs right then and there, or she could have laughed hysterically. She decided to laugh. Especially in light of Laura’s behavior.

  “What the hell’s so funny, I’d like to know? This has been anything but funny. How can you be sitting there right now laughing?” Laura pulled the car into Roxanne’s driveway and looked at her with an incredulous stare. That made Roxanne laugh all the more. Her stomach began to get that tight ache that happened when she laughed too hard. She knew she’d better stop before she could be considered certifiably hysterical. She calmed herself and patted Laura’s arm.

  “I’m sorry, but I have so few choices. Would you rather see me sob?” She finally found a more even emotional setting and tried to steady herself there.

  “No. I don’t know. Maybe. I know you probably feel like it. I couldn’t possibly see how the situation could get any worse. Maybe some day this will all be funny. But it doesn’t seem that way to me today.” Laura looked at her. “And I’m really sorry because I feel responsible since it was my idea for you to go to the hospital in the first place. I should have known better.”

  The hospital. Lindy. Roxanne could feel herself slipping over the edge into the abyss of pain again and she shook her head. She couldn’t do it. Not yet. Not now. There was still a long way to go. “I guess I prefer to skip over all the despair and get right to the part where everything seems comical. There must be some kind of psychological term for that. Maybe they call it denial or something.” She smiled at Laura. Her chin trembled.

  Laura shook her head and laughed through her tears. Roxanne leaned over and hugged her friend. Laura had tried so hard to be valiant through the whole ordeal. She had pushed herself well beyond her normal limits of emotional endurance.

  Roxanne took a tissue from the console and wiped her friend’s face. They got out of the car.

  “Let’s go in and have some tea or something. What is it one does in a situation like this?” Laura asked.

  “How about a shot of whiskey?” Roxanne suggested as they walked into the kitchen. Laura laughed. Bonnie had the TV on tuned into the news and they were all front and center. She shook her head and put on the teakettle. They all sat at the kitchen table. Roxanne turned off the TV and they watched the fire in the fireplace instead.

  “Lucky I saved you some whiskey. After seeing that news clip, I felt the need for a shot or two myself,” Bonnie said, then sat herself down.

  Roxanne tried not to notice the men out back throwing the life-sized dummy off the deck down onto the rocks. Al said they’d be doing tests. She got up to watch.

  “They’ve been at it all morning,” Bonnie said. “Sure hope it does some good.”

  One man, struggling, carried the soaking wet dummy up the steps. When he reached the top he let the limp figure drop onto the deck with a sickening thud. She tried not to look at the body. It wasn’t Don. But when her eyes betrayed her with a glance, she felt it all over again. The heat rose to her face, beads of sweat broke out all over her body, and her stomach clenched in revulsion. The dizzying nausea overwhelmed her until she forced herself to look away.

  It was not Don.

  But that hardly mattered. It had been Don.

  She leaned back against the wall, squeezing her eyes closed as tight as she could, but she felt some of the tears escaping anyway. She let herself slide down the wall to a heap on the floor and let her head drop into her hands. She felt Laura and Bonnie hover over her. She heard their voices, but she didn’t hear what they said. She felt their hands on her, trying to move her. But she couldn’t respond. She fell into the solace of oblivion.

  By the time Al arrived later that day, Roxanne felt she’d recovered her sanity. But with it came the unrelenting feeling of loss. Images of Lindy and Don floated through her mind. But the worse sense of loss came when she thought of Barry Dennis.

  The phone rang. She sat in the kitchen in her assigned seat at the table, sipping tea. The phone rang a lot. She’d turned off her cell phone. Al picked up his cell and clicked it on. He nodded. “Did you find him?” Al asked.

  Roxanne knew he was talking about Mark. She tuned out the conversation. Roxanne hated having to be so desperately counting on one man’s appearance. It shouldn’t be so hard to prove she was innocent. She shouldn’t have to. But it was, and she did.

  That was the thought that had been nagging at the back of her mind these last months. Every time it came up she pushed it back down. She’d been determined to win the war of wills against Penelope.

  The realization was finally taking hold, however, that maybe there was no making up for the fact that Don was dead. Someone had to pay. Marrying Don was a mistake she’d have to live with. If Penelope succeeded in making her atone for his death, she’d have to live with that too. Maybe no other penance would do.

  She looked at Al as he hung up the phone. The smile he had on his face disappeared as he looked at her.

  “Don’t mind me. This is my day for being morose. I’ll get over it.” She smiled at him. But she wasn’t so sure how she’d get over all this. She straightened in her chair and put more effort into her smile. She determined that she sure as hell was going to have to do her best to live with “it.” Because “it” was herself.

  “This should cheer you. Thanks to the last lead, the detective is one step behind Mark and closing in. We’re making progress all around. Our forensics expert says we should have test results on the dynamics of the fall to support our theory.” Al stopped talking. “This is good news, Rox. Are you sure you’re okay? You should have let Dr. Oki give you that sedative.”

  “I don’t need a sedative. Look how calm I am. I have all I need. A good lawyer and good friends.” Her smile broke out automatically this time. He took her hand and beamed a smile back. She decided she loved Al. The same way she’d loved Don. She looked away from him. She was going to have to let him go. Soon.

  Chapter 21

  “WE HAVE to look for bank statements, the transaction statements from the Trust Account Roxanne had set up for the fund. Accounting is administering the fund so it should be down here,” Laura said in a whisper as she stepped across the threshold, hunched over.

  “What do we look for?” Tim asked, taking the huge ring of keys from the door and looking for somewhere to put them.

  “Make sure all the deposits have been recorded. It will be tough to tell because in the beginning Harry trusted accounting to keep track and didn’t keep copies of the checks he sent out.” Laura didn’t bother to keep the accusatory note from her voice. She’d always told Harry he was remiss for not keeping better track of things from their end.
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  Harry defended himself. “All I did is send a memo with the checks for deposit to the accounting office. Who ever thought there’d be a problem? But I made a list from memory, or at least tried to. I know nothing can be proven from my mental list, but at least we’ll know and it’ll confirm our suspicions. Hey—I got us the password to the computer account, didn’t I?”

  “And I got the password to Dr. Evans’s personal files,” she countered. “Now we can see the files that can only be accessed from his computer.” She didn’t want to admit how she’d gotten said password, but they didn’t need to know.

  “What else can we look for?” Tim asked, looking around at all the file cabinets.

  “Withdrawals.” Laura said, as she tapped at the keyboard to access the accounting files “Here’s the file for the State Street Trust Account. Wait, this is for the building project. Here’s another for the Dr. Oki research fund.” She tapped more keys and scrolled down the screen. “This is odd. Both these files were duplicated in Dr. Evans’s personal Expense Account file.” Laura looked up at the two men and smiled. Her feeling of triumph overrode her horror at the situation.

  “What kind of withdrawals are we looking for? There’s a bunch here, but I have no clue what they’re for. Only dollar amounts are listed.” Harry said from across the room as he flipped through a massive binder filled with computer printouts.

  Laura went over. “Are these the reports for the Dr. Oki Fund Trust Account? Let me see.” Laura took it from Harry and sat back down to check the official reports against what she found on Dr. Evans’s computer. “This is impossible. I’ve been doing all the check requests and I’ve been very explicit about specifying what they’re for.” She looked at Harry and her heart began thudding at an alarming rate “I’ve kept very good records.” She took a deep breath. “There are withdrawals from this account that match deposits to Dr. Evans’s account.”

  “Who else is authorized to withdraw from this account?” Tim asked her.